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<title>Beauty (That Silver Shell We Call the Moon) by DoreyG</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28215435">Beauty (That Silver Shell We Call the Moon)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG'>DoreyG</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frey &amp; McGray Series - Oscar de Muriel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Desk Sex, First Time, Jealousy, M/M, Making Out, Masked ball, Multiple Partners</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:21:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28215435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Admittedly, he should’ve known better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adolphus "Nine Nails" McGray/Ian Frey, Adolphus "Nine Nails" McGray/OMC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beauty (That Silver Shell We Call the Moon)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts">thedevilchicken</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Admittedly, he should’ve known better.</p><p>They were at a masked ball, one of the various parties thrown at the end of the year by the police association with money that they probably should’ve been using for far better things. Frey had been in his very fanciest suit, even more prim and proper than usual. He had opted to wear a kilt with his own fancy jacket, and had thought he looked pretty good until Frey had taken one look at him and turned away with a sharp sniff.</p><p>He shouldn’t have let Frey’s sniffiness, which was still pretty common even now, ruin a perfectly good night… But, to his annoyance, it kind of had. He should’ve been happy and blithe, stealing all the ridiculously tiny food and elbowing Frey cheerfully in the side all night, but instead he’d found himself standing sulkily by the wall and grumpily watching Frey disappear into the crowd. Somewhere along the way Frey’s approval, Frey’s happiness, had started to matter to him; and that was a very inconvenient fact, considering that Frey still was and always would be the biggest dickhead he had ever met.</p><p>Well, fuck him, he’d decided in a fit of rage. Fuck his sniffiness, fuck his disapproval, and fuck the fact that he apparently hated seeing him in a kilt. If he couldn’t have Frey besides him, then he would quite happily allow himself to find somebody else.</p><p>One of the servers was a tall man who was probably in his late twenties, but could easily pass for his early thirties. He had thick dark hair, long legs and a general sense of nervous tension around him that almost seemed familiar. It probably said far too much about his state of mind that the first ‘fuck you’ option he saw was a man who so strongly resembled Frey, but he’d been a little too het up to care about all the implications of the matter.</p><p>It’d been easy enough to catch the man by the arm and lead him to a more secluded place, even easier to whisper seductive words in his ear until he was downright eager for it. Which led, in the easiest way in the world, to him kneeling in a darkened room a few doors down from the main party with his kilt flipped up and a pretty young thing sucking his cock.</p><p>It wasn’t that the guy was bad at all, all things considered he seemed rather practiced at sucking random strangers off at masked balls, but he still found himself a little distracted. Most of the pleasure, he had to admit, came not from the act of cocksucking itself but from imagining that it was Frey on his knees before him with his mouth so lewdly stretched around his cock.</p><p>The thought of that, though, was <i>very</i> pleasurable. Imagining that this pretty young thing was Frey, just using the cover of a masked ball to pretend that they were strangers and go after what he’d wanted all along. Imagining prim, prissy Frey sliding to his knees and putting his cock shamelessly in his mouth. Imagining Frey moaning for him, gagging for him, being about five seconds away from spreading his legs and downright begging for him…</p><p>He was so lost in his imaginings, the imaginings that had very little to do with the poor guy actually sucking his cock, that he barely noticed when the door slowly creaked open.</p><p>It only took him a second to get past that dazed obliviousness, though, and then he felt a sincere moment of panic. He didn’t even remember the name of the guy sucking him off, wasn’t even sure if they’d traded anything of the sort in their quick rush to the room, but he deserved significantly better than getting caught in an active act of sodomy. A thousand excuses rushed through his mind, a thousand resorts to bribery that would still leave the horror of blackmail hanging over both their heads…</p><p>But luckily he didn’t need any of them. There was a long moment of silence, and then the door clicked shut again and an ever so familiar throat was cleared. He turned, half disbelieving, and saw Frey leaning against the wall and glaring right at the two of them.</p><p>He sagged in relief, but his unfortunate partner was obviously far from reassured. He allowed his cock to slip out from between his lips, rose to his feet with an increasingly panicked flush radiating out from under his mask. “I-”</p><p>Frey got there before he could offer any kind of reassurance, no matter how bland it would’ve sounded. He gave the man a brusque look over, one that left no doubt as to how low his opinion of him was, and then jerked his chin towards the door in an arrogant dismissal that would’ve been irritating if it wasn’t quite so hot. “<i>Leave</i>.”</p><p>The guy, proving himself fairly smart all things considered, cast a half second look in his direction and then fled without another word. Leaving him sitting on the couch where he’d planted himself, still half hard and annoyed for not entirely the right reasons.</p><p>Well, best to grab the bull by the horns as it were. He twisted front again, so he didn’t have to get annoyed by the scornful glitter of Frey’s eyes behind his mask, and planted his hands on his bare thighs to ground himself. The touch of skin against skin worked nowhere near as well as he’d hoped. “Can I help you?”</p><p>“I cannot <i>believe</i> you.” Frey, for once, seemed inclined to grab the bull by the horns too instead of fucking around. His tone was petulant, so petulant that he genuinely wondered why his blowjob partner had been quite so intimidated by him. “How dare you do something like this when we’re meant to be keeping our wits around us, and being a credit to our noble professions?”</p><p>He rolled his eyes at the wall, even though Frey couldn’t see him. It was just like the man to take seriously an occasion that was basically an excuse for everybody involved to get shitfaced, it was almost like he was incapable of functioning without a massive stick up his arse. “Plenty of people get their cocks sucked at parties, Percy.”</p><p>“Not when they’re supposed to be doing their jobs!” Frey snapped, genuinely offended. It would’ve been hilarious, if he wasn’t still aroused and increasingly pissed off alongside it. “And not by anonymous pretty boys who they really should know better than to even look at. Correct me if I’m wrong, but should an officer of the law really be explicitly breaking it at an official function?”</p><p>“It’s hardly like this is that official a party, Percy. It’s just an excuse for a bit of political maneuvering and a lot of alcohol,” he said, what had been a mild sense of annoyance turning into a downright blaze, and finally got to his feet and turned to face Frey. It was only when he stood up that he realized just how inadequate his kilt was for hiding his still present erection. “Maybe you should try hooking up with a mysterious stranger some time, it might improve your general personality.”</p><p>“How dare you.” Frey hissed, his face an impressive shade of puce. His eyes briefly darted down his body, to where his cock was tenting the fabric of his kilt, and slid immediately back up to his face in a scandalised way. “I’m not an idiot, Nine Nails. I don’t make a habit of putting my- of touching anything when I’m not sure where it’s been first.”</p><p>“He was a perfectly nice lad, Percy!” He said, offended on the admittedly nameless man’s behalf. He had expected Frey to be sniffy about this, god forbid the man seemed inclined to swoon like a virgin when anything even approaching sex was mentioned, but he had never pictured anything quite <i>this</i> bad. “There’s no need to insult him because he’s capable of having fun, as opposed to being a virgin until age ninety and getting all his kicks from being an absurd snob who couldn’t seduce anybody if he tried.”</p><p>“I am not a-!” Frey went scarlet, layered on top of the puce shade, and cut himself off abruptly. He was well aware that that’d been a low blow, but apparently that was just the order of the day. “There’s no need to insult me like that just because I’m pointing out the truth!”</p><p>He glared, more interested than he should be in Frey’s blush and all the more irritated because of it. “And what truth would that be, oh king of stick up his arse land?”</p><p>“That you are a feckless, irresponsible, <i>insane</i> idiot who has no concept of how to do his job in a professional and mature manner.” Frey sneered, half spluttering as he did so. “And possessed of <i>terrible</i> taste besides.”</p><p>Another low blow, this time striking at the job which was the one thing he was actually proud of in his life. He glared at Frey, and found himself stepping forwards until they were standing up close to each other instead of shouting at each other across the span of a room. “You know <i>what</i>, Percy? I don’t think you actually care about this whole thing for professional reasons, I think you care because you’re <i>jealous</i>.”</p><p>He expected more anger, more scorn, more yelling. He didn’t expect Frey’s eyes to go wide, for his blush to grow so intense that it practically glowed through his somehow still there mask. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nine Nails, but I’d thank you not to impugn my good name.”</p><p>“What good name?” He asked. He knew that the sensible option would be just to walk away, to forget that this entire conversation had happened, but he was too riled to do anything of the sort. Instead he stepped forward again, and then again until Frey was pressed back against the door with his ever so wide eyes. “<i>You</i> were the one who wanted to be dragged into a room by a stranger, forced to your knees and made to choke on a nice thick cock.”</p><p>Frey’s breath was coming fast and shallow, he looked like a rat caught in a trap and wore the expression surprisingly well. “Shut up-”</p><p>“Or maybe you didn’t want a stranger at all,” he said, driven near to insanity by the look on Frey’s face, and reached out with a surge of daring. Grabbed Frey’s hand, where it was fisted against the door, and dragged it in until it was pressed right up against his rock hard cock underneath his kilt. “Maybe you wanted <i>me</i> to drag you into this room, make you go to your knees and feed you my cock until you wept. Until you begged for it, begged for <i>me</i>.”</p><p>Frey, for perhaps the first time in his life, was struck speechless. He stared up at him with wide eyes, his chest heaving. There was an expression of naked panic on his face, but something else lurking in his eyes. Was he tempted? Was his absurdly prissy English Lass actually not all that opposed to touching another man’s cock?</p><p>Well, in for a penny in for a pound. He kept his grip on Frey’s wrist, waited until his fingers slowly unclenched from their tight fist and then dragged his hand in to rest against his cock. He started to slowly move Frey, jerking his hand by his wrist, until Frey’s fingers were tightening and Frey was - almost impossibly - starting to move his hand by himself… And only then gave a mocking grin, batted him away like it meant nothing at all. “A pity you’re too much of a coward to ever ask for what you actually want.” </p><p>They stared at each other from close up for a long few moments. Frey’s chest still heaving and his eyes still wide, his hand still pressed against the tender skin of Frey’s wrist and his cock downright throbbing between his thighs.</p><p>This was insane, he’d pushed it just a little too far in his desire to get one up over Frey for once and for all. He stared at Frey’s wide eyed face for a long moment more, and then forced himself to close his eyes and attempt to catch his breath. It was harder than it should’ve been to step away from the heat of Frey’s body, but it was necessary. He wasn’t quite sure what to do next, what with Frey looking at him like that, but he was sure that he could probably come up with something…</p><p>It was somewhat of a surprise, to say the least, when Frey’s hand immediately shot out and wrapped around his arm before he could get more than a step away. He stilled for a long moment, opened up his eyes again as he absorbed the momentum of the occasion. He looked down at the hand around his arm, then looked up at Frey’s fixed face and felt an almost painful stab of hope. “Percy?”</p><p>Frey didn’t say anything, at first. He only continued to look up at him with those ever so wide eyes and an almost tentative expression on his face. A moment, and then he slowly reached behind his head and fumbled with the ties of his mask until it fluttered down and exposed the surprisingly becoming flush on his cheekbones.</p><p>It was something, it was so much something that he felt in an agony of suspense just from the sight of it. He hesitated for half a moment, and then went for the strings of his own mask. Hesitated for half a moment more, as it fluttered down from his face and landed unheeded on the floor, and then decided if he couldn’t be daring now then he didn’t deserve to call himself brave ever again. “<i>Lassie</i>?”</p><p>“Shut up,” Frey said softly, surprisingly evenly, and stepped forward to kiss him.</p><p>It wasn’t the most practiced kiss that he’d ever had, but Jesus Christ if it didn’t drive him out of his mind with lust anyway. He stepped automatically back into Frey’s space, and then went even further until he was actively pressing him up against the door. They took a moment to get used to each other, and then slid into the same rhythm they always had. There was only the sweetness of Frey’s mouth against his, the tightness of Frey’s hands sliding up to grip in his hair, the softness of Frey’s gasp as he swiped his tongue across the seam of his lips and took advantage of his distraction to steal inside.</p><p>It was all good, <i>God</i> was it good, but he had been hard for so long that it already seemed like not quite enough. They made out against the door for a long moment like that, increasingly filthy as Frey’s confidence grew, and then he growled low in his throat and reached out to throw the lock.</p><p>Frey drew back for a moment to give him a mildly unimpressed look, his hands still up in his hair and showing no sign of moving. “So you do know how to-”</p><p>Usually he would’ve been willing to banter with Frey for days, but he feared that his balls were about to explode if he didn’t get some relief as soon as possible. He cut off Frey’s customary sarcasm with another desperate kiss, took advantage of his distraction yet again to neatly slide his hands underneath his arse and hoist him up. Frey squeaked, wrapping both arms and legs around him, but sensibly didn’t even attempt to struggle. It was the easiest thing in the world to turn, to carry him over to the stately desk that was the centrepiece of the room.</p><p>Frey drew back to give him a half second glare, as he was safely deposited, but was himself a little too desperate to protest all that much. In the next second they were desperately making out again, except this time in a position that it was a hell of a lot easier to bend Frey over in. Their kisses quickly became filthy yet again, Frey’s hands up in his hair and Frey’s tongue in his mouth with an eagerness that he’d never once expected and most definitely <i>loved</i>.</p><p>He kissed Frey, with a desperate and intense care, until the man was wild. Not just kissing him, or tugging at his hair, but actively bucking up against his still hard cock and making breathless noises into his mouth. And only then did he draw back, take Frey by the shoulders and spin him until he was braced over the desk instead of merely sitting on it.</p><p>He opened Frey’s trousers easily, and tugged them down to his ankles. He took a moment to grope his arse, his surprisingly attractive arse, until he squeaked and then followed the path of the trousers down to his knees. Once he was down there he didn’t hang around, didn’t bother to tease because he knew that they were both already too desperate for anything of the sort. He only leant in, and swiped his tongue from the top to the bottom of Frey’s crack in one smooth movement.</p><p>Frey cried out at that, aching and desperate, and he briefly looked up to warn him not to be too loud. He didn’t have to, by the time he raised his eyes Frey had already clapped a hand over his mouth and was panting desperately into it. He smirked to himself, smug to have caused such a reaction, and leant back in. He licked over Frey’s hole again and again, getting it damper and damper until he could push the tip of his tongue inside.</p><p>Frey let out a sobbing gasp, loud enough that he could hear it even with that hand clapped over his mouth, and thrust his hips eagerly back against his tongue. He caught them with his hands, and pressed them back against the table so he wasn’t totally overwhelmed. He kept thrusting his tongue in again and again, fucking Frey until he opened up around him ever so sweetly.</p><p>Eventually he deemed it enough. He climbed up to his feet, and spat in his hand to slick up his cock. And then he draped himself across Frey’s back, red hot even through his shirt and jacket, and gently nipped at his ear. The moment he received a soft moan of encouragement he flipped up his kilt again, lined up with Frey’s hole and slowly slid in.</p><p>He had meant to go slow at first, not entirely sure of Frey’s level of experience because it was hardly like this was a planned thing, but it soon proved impossible. He managed to seat himself with all due restraint, but then the hot tightness of Frey’s body around him proved too much for him. Before long he was starting to thrust properly, kicking Frey’s legs as far apart as they could go - with his trousers still around his ankles - and driving into him with a ceaseless desperation.</p><p>Maybe he could’ve managed to restrain himself if Frey had shown any signs of pain or reluctance, but he <i>didn’t</i>. Instead he moaned into his hand again, still loud enough that he could hear it even through the muffling flesh, and allowed his head to fall back against his shoulder. It wasn’t quite a surrender, one of the things he liked best about Frey was his permanent stubbornness, but it was definitely consent.</p><p>With this encouragement he set a punishing rhythm, going harder and harder in his mission to drive them both out of their minds. He took Frey’s body almost brutally, thrusting into him so hard that soon the slap of flesh against flesh echoed through the room. He wrapped one arm around Frey’s chest, an iron band, and lifted his other hand to briefly caress Frey’s neck. He had never been a particularly possessive lover before, there had never seemed that much point, but now he wanted Frey to remember this with a desperation that was frankly frenzied.</p><p>At any moment he expected Frey to protest, to call an end to a coupling that involved a rough arm around his waist and a rougher hand around his throat, but he didn’t. He <i>didn’t</i>. He only kept gasping into his own hand, and trying to drive his hips back onto his cock. He was hardly practiced at it, he kept alternately going too hard and too soft, but damn if that eager inexperience didn’t have him on the edge of coming after only a few thrusts.</p><p>He already felt frenzied. Maybe because he had been already riled up by the blowjob, or maybe from the act of rimming Frey, or maybe just because he finally had his cock in Frey’s arse. Any of those options or just a quirk of fate, he felt animalistic in a way that he’d never quite managed before. He tightened his grip on Frey’s throat for a long moment, revelling in the bob of an Adam’s Apple against his palm, and then growled to himself and bent him over at the waist until he was over the desk entirely.</p><p>Frey again didn’t protest, if anything did the exact opposite. He braced himself on the desk with one hand, and kept rolling his hips backwards into his thrusts. When he moved his hand up again, to briefly stroke at the side of Frey’s face this time before burying it in his soft hair, he felt the dampness of tears on his fingertips. This was obviously so much more intense than anything that Frey had ever experienced before, was obviously on the edge of taking him apart entirely.</p><p>Dear God, maybe he did have an honest to God virgin currently clenching around his cock. A part of him almost regretted the rough treatment that he was doling out, but a far bigger part of him was posessively thrilled to see Frey so very undone. His rhythm was already falling apart entirely, but that was alright. He kept thrusting hard into Frey’s body, kept clutching at him so tightly that he’d probably have bruises even with the cushion of his clothes. He couldn’t remember ever having sex like this before, couldn’t remember <i>anything</i> ever being as good as this.</p><p>Frey went down to one elbow, his other hand still weakly clasped over his mouth, and then gave up altogether and slumped face down over the desk. Both of his hands were white knuckled on the edge now, and there was only the wooden grain to muffle his desperate noises. That was alright, though, he was far more undone now but absolutely incoherent with it. The only noises he was making were soft whimpers, airless moans, desperately choked off cries as he kept ceaselessly shoving his hips back. The arrogant, prissy Ian Frey reduced - or, more accurately in that moment, raised - to an absolute wreck.</p><p>All of that considered, it really wasn’t any surprise when Frey gave a noise that was almost a sob and came all over the table without even a hand around his cock. It wasn’t exactly like it was possible for him to collapse any further, his top half was already slumped over the table and his lower body was already only being held up by the force of his thrusts, but he still managed to melt a little underneath him. It was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen, he leant in to press his own mouth against Frey’s still closed shoulder and spent inside him in a few sharp thrusts.</p><p>His own knees felt a little like giving way, as he let the pleasure surge through him, but he just about managed to keep his feet. The return to reality was slow and hardly steady, his thoughts returning to him as if from a distance. He was still, no matter how slowly he recovered, doing better than Frey; Frey, who was still slumped over the desk with his eyes closed and his chest heaving and a becoming sheen of sweat over his skin.</p><p>He liked Frey even when he was at his spikiest, a strange streak of masochism that he’d never thought himself capable of before, but he found that he liked this softer version of him just fine too. He smiled to himself, almost fondly, and stroked a hand down Frey’s thigh in warning before he slowly pulled out. And then he laughed to himself, as Frey actually <i>whined</i> in protest, and gently stroked him on his back - just above his arse - as he slowly started to put himself back together.</p><p>“Lassie-”</p><p>“Ugh,” Frey said, barely a word at all, and only then blearily opened his eyes. He wasn’t sure if the man had ever been as relaxed as this, even once in his highly strung life, and he felt an absurd surge of pride at being the one to finally calm him. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”</p><p>He laughed again, undeniably fond now, and leant in again. He didn’t bother to pull his kilt back down, instead leaving his slowly softening cock to rub more come over Frey’s arse, but instead tilted his head to press a sloppy kiss against the side of Frey’s face. He wasn’t expecting much, maybe a slap as Frey recovered, but after a long moment Frey sighed and turned his head to kiss his mouth just as sloppily in return.</p><p>So. Admittedly, he should’ve known better. However right then, with Frey still panting so warmly beneath him, he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much.</p>
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